Inkchanger

12: Black Helicopters

Zara snorted appreciatively, and Sofi threw her backpack down next to a flat stone. She propped the flashlight up against it and cranked the brightness down so the glow couldn't be seen from outside. Rummaging in the pack a bit, she retrieved a couple of slightly-smashed PB&J sandwiches and offered one to Zara who was using her own bag as a butt cushion.

"I think we can avoid the whole poisoning thing," she said. "At least until we cross the border. Never know what foreign food will do to you."

Zara took the sandwich and merrily tucked in as if there would never be another one. Grape jam was her favorite. She was glad Sofi had thought to bring real food; that had been the last thing on her mind when she stormed off, and all she'd brought was a clutch of now-crushed Twinkies.

Sofi watched intently as the other girl unwrapped the tinfoil, her eyes on the alert for any signs of... well, she wasn't sure exactly. Anything weird. But rather than being melancholy like Sofi expected, Zara seemed more alive than ever. The action-movie escape and secret hideout lit up that dark face in ways she had only seen on adrenaline highs. She smiled to herself as she remembered those first magical days when the inkpen had brought Zara such joy, even if it was only temporary.

Which reminded her...

"Hey, Z."

"Ymsh?" Zara said through a mouthful of peanut butter.

"I brought you something. Forgot about it until just now."

She felt around in the recesses of her bag until her fingers hit what she was looking for: a small, hand-carved box. Wordlessly, she held it out.

Zara swallowed the last of her sandwich and took the box in both hands. She ran her fingers gingerly over the tangle of full-bloom roses and stylized briars that decorated the lid. Her skin tingled; she wasn't sure if it was the thought of Eric, now left behind, or the call of the inkpen nesting insides. She could feel the device through the thick wood, sweetly keening for her touch and fully expecting her to reach in and reunite them.

"Why'd you bring it?" she asked softly. "I left it behind on purpose. I didn't want it to wind up in Azkaban with me."

"I know, but if it gives you even a little happiness, I thought you should have it."

She knew Sofi was right. She could feel the lock on her heart creaking with anticipation as she held the instrument in its box. Even being away from the inkpen for a few hours, the darkness inside her had intensified; it had gotten a taste of the light, and now it was hooked like a toddler drinking a Coke. She'd tried for so long to appease her inner guardian and failed every time. Nothing she could find, be, do, or say was enough to make him unlock the doors. If he wouldn't let her break the chains for good, it seemed like the fleeting elation of impressing art into flesh was her only option.

A few stolen moments are better than nothing at all, right?

She sniffed a little, trying to corral the tears threatening to jump from her eyelashes, and her voice only croaked slightly when she spoke.

"Thanks, Soph. Really." She gave a thin, watery smile.

Sofi leaned over abruptly and grabbed Zara into a bear hug. "I just want you to be happy, Z. And I'll go with you wherever you need to go to find that," she whispered, her own voice thick with unspent emotion.

Zara did her best to hug back. "I know."

"Good," said Sofi, letting go, her voice getting back to business. "Now, I think we need to get some sleep. Secret Agent 69 or whatever is probably conscious by now. Let's make sure he doesn't catch up."